Nine Lives
by caskett-case
Summary: Cuddling, Pinterest, and the whole kitten kaboodle. Literally. Written for the Rumbelle Newlyweds Challenge.


_Hey, everyone! So I've written this fluffy little one-shot for the Rumbelle Newlyweds Challenge on Tumblr, and I'm actually not until Day 26 (which is June 12), but I'm actually going to be out of the country on a mission trip until June 14 and won't have any access to Internet. That, and I told the readers of my multi-chap fic (which you can go read if ya haven't yet by going to my page- yay shameless self promo) that I would try to have another update up before I left. Alas, I failed, so I figured I would post this on here ahead of time and then set it to post on Tumblr on the 12th. But anyway, Poison and Wine readers, I will write you an update or two on the plane ride. (: _

_So here! Have some fluff!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rumbelle or anything from OUAT. Or a cat. Or anything of value. _

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Belle was still curled up in a too-warm but too-comfortable to move cocoon of blankets when Rumple tiptoed through the bedroom door, cradling a small bundle of fur in his arms.

He didn't know what exactly possessed him to stroll into the animal shelter and ask the clearly stunned receptionist if he could peruse wherever the cats were kept, to see if he could find a suitable animal for his new wife. The fresh-faced boy, a nameless peasant from the Enchanted Forest that he didn't recognize (but the boy clearly recognized the Dark One) went wide-eyed and led him back to the cages, and Rumple ultimately settled on a clumsy black and white kitten sprawled along the floor of one of the large cages, batting at the tail of one of his sisters as it swayed back and forth in front of the kitten's tiny paws.

He was well aware of Belle's affinity for animals—recalling with vivid detail the way her face lit up the first time she discovered how affectionate he could be around Dr. Hopper's Pongo and the way she would coo over the fawns with their mothers as the babies tentatively followed the does through the Enchanted Forest on wobbly legs. Yes, his Belle loved animals, and though he knew she wouldn't be thrilled with the idea of him lavishing her with yet another gift ("Two libraries, all this jewelry, a closet full of designer clothing and an uninterrupted wedding and honeymoon is far more than enough, Rumple"), this gift was every bit for him as it was for her. Because while Rumple did slightly prefer the sheepdogs from his spinner days, he was quite fond of the little ball of fluff wriggling in his arms right now.

Belle felt the bed dip and groggily rolled over to peer up at her husband. Two weeks of wedded bliss with her True Love had rolled by with little objection from the rest of Storybrooke ("Perhaps I should marry the love of my life more often if that's what it takes to get the Charmings off my back for a few days," he had quipped a few days into their honeymoon, when it became clear that no one wanted to mess with the Dark One while he was uh, consummating his marriage). They had only left the pink (salmon—it was salmon, and he would fight that tooth and nail) house to head to the cabin and quickly storm in and out of the supermarket to stock up on food before someone interrupted them.

She sighed at the memories of all their lazy cuddling and lovemaking, and now that the two of them had both finally taken a break from the world, Belle wanted to find a way to convince him to just close the pawn shop and lock themselves far away from the rest of the Storybrooke for the rest of their lives.

Her eyes finally came into focus, and she let her gaze sweep down from his soft brown eyes, down his chest and into—wait, what?

She bolted up in bed and tried to suppress the wry smile that was forming on her lips, tried desperately to play the disapproving wife at her husband bringing an animal home.

She failed miserably.

"Rumple?"

"Yes, dear?"

She cocked an eyebrow and nodded toward the kitten in his lap, which was now blinking up at Belle with impossibly large, dark, liquid eyes.

"You gonna explain?"

He smirked.

"I don't see you complaining."

She leaned forward and tugged his earlobe, twisting it slightly just to inflict the slightest bit of pain.

She grinned when he reached up and rubbed it soothingly once she retracted her hand, and then her eyes softened a bit.

Belle leaned forward and plucked the kitten from his grasp, carefully cradling it in her arms and gently ruffling the kitten's black fur.

"I like this side of you," she mumbled. "Although I did think you were more of a dog person."

"I've seen you fawning over pictures of litters of kittens in wicker baskets on that damned Pinny thing on your laptop."

The one thing that had changed about Belle in the time that he's been gone is her ability to handle the technology of this world, specifically all the apps and popular social media of modern society, which she has tried to make him succumb to (she knows she can get him to download SnapChat when she tells him that she can use it to send him very…interesting pictures).

She giggles.

"It's Pinterest, Rumple."

He shrugs flippantly and reaches to scratch behind the kitten's ear.

"Regardless of that," he begins, and he wonders if she can hear or feel the pounding of his heart that has gotten progressively louder and harder and faster. They've never talked about this, and he knows that they're far from ready, but he knows Belle has a spectacular innate motherly instinct that is obvious to everyone who meets her, "I've also seen the way you look longingly at the little Charming."

"Rumple—"

"No, Belle, I know we haven't really touched on this before, and I know that we're both far from ready for anything like that, but…"

She cuts him off with a quick peck on the lips and a smile, cuddling the kitten closer to her.

"A pet might be a good place to start."

His lips quirk up, and he nods.

"Yes," he responds, wrapping an arm around her and leaning them and their newest family member back onto the pillows.

"Besides," he continues. "Cats have nine lives. So we'd really have to screw things up to be bad at parenting a cat."

She smiles, her big blue eyes shining just the slightest bit with mirth and unshed tears. There's a silent understanding—they'll start a family someday, but this little bundle of furry joy in her arms right now is a good start.

Besides, they've got the rest of their lives ahead of them.

(Or nine.)

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_Reviews are fun. :) _


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